Merry Christmas, Sherlock
by WhisperThroughTheTrees
Summary: John finally meets Mummy Holmes at Christmas time! Turns out, she's got some interesting stories to tell about little Sherlock. Fluff. Established Johnlock, references to Mystrade. Enjoy!


**I'm in an early Christmas mood - sorry. John and Sherlock are secretly dating when John convinces his new beau that it's time to meet the Holmes family at Christmas. During the family reunion, Mummy or Grandmummy embarrass poor Sherlock in front of John. Fluffy or smexy laters. Or Mystrade if that floats your boat more. :) 3**

"Sherlock-"

"No."

"But I just-"

"I said _no."_

"But you-"

"John, it's not happening and we're not talking about it anymore."

John sighed and rolled his eyes, handing Sherlock a mug of tea before taking his place in his own armchair across from his boyfriend.

"Do you remember what happened when Mycroft introduced Lestrade at a family gathering?" Sherlock inquired, setting the tea, untouched, on the small table beside his chair.

"It wasn't that bad," John argued, taking a sip. He'd heard the story from Greg the weekend after it had happened- John was very sorry to have missed a sputtering, red-faced Mycroft Holmes. He wouldn't have even thought something of the sort existed if it weren't for Greg's insistence that it was the funniest thing he's ever witnessed. "Your mum only told a few stories about when Mycroft was a kid-"

"And I don't want the same happening to me." Sherlock interrupted. He leaned back in his chair, resting his hands under his chin in their usual prayer-like position.

"You're being ridiculous. After all, it's Christmas! Everybody'll be caught up in the spirit anyway." John reasoned. There was silence in the flat, save the logs in the fireplace, occasionally making quiet popping and cracking noises as they burned.

"Fine." Sherlock agreed after a few minutes of silence. "We can go…on one condition."

"Alright, what condition?" John was ecstatic about finally meeting the rest of the Holmes family, but wary of the condition. Knowing Sherlock, it was something crazy or impossible that would leave John with a choice between extreme embarrassment or staying home.

"We don't stay for long. These events will last forever- trust me, I know from experience." Sherlock sighed, looking away from John.

"Oh. That's it? Okay, we won't stay the whole time." John stood, collecting his mug and entering the kitchen. "You coming to bed?" He called over his shoulder as he deposited his mug in the sink. "Or are you going to sit out there pouting all night?"

"Sherlock, we're going to be late." John chided, slipping on his shoes. Sherlock entered the room in his usual fitted suit, a cross look on his face. "Could you at least _try_ to look happy?"

"No." Sherlock replied, slipping on his coat and fitting his scarf around his neck. "I'm not happy, so what's the use in pretending?"

John rolled his eyes as he put his own coat on, _shepherding the detective out the door and down the stairs, lacing their fingers together as they reached the pavement. After a few minutes they caught a cab and directed the driver to the Holmes estate. It was just under an hour's drive and the whole way there Sherlock was quiet, despite John's attempts at conversation. When they finally arrived, John practically leapt out of the cab, dazzled by the fairy lights strung around the trees leading up to the large house. _

_"Wow, look at the trees!" He exclaimed, paying the cabbie and walking around the car to Sherlock. _

_"Mother was always one for the ridiculous decorations." Sherlock said flatly, exhaling and watching his breath billow out in front of him. _

_"I think it looks wonderful." John smiled, leading Sherlock up the steps to the porch, clutching a bottle of wine and a bag of presents. He rang the doorbell and heard the tone echo throughout the large house. A woman with short white hair, dressed in a long, red, silk dress answered the door, beaming at the sight on her doorstep. _

_"Sherlock." She grinned, gesturing for them to come inside. "Darling, you haven't visited in __ages!"__ As soon as the couple was in the grand entry hall with the door shut on the cold, winter night behind them, the woman pulled Sherlock into a warm embrace. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her almost awkwardly and patted her back. _

_"Hello, mummy." He greeted her, pasting a fake smile on his face. She pulled away and looked up at him, cradling his face in her hand. _

_"And you must be John!" She said as she turned from Sherlock and directed her attention to the sandy-haired doctor standing near the door. "I've heard so much about you. It's nice to know Sherlock's finally found someone." The woman hugged him briefly. "I'm, of course, Mummy Holmes." _

_"Nice to meet you, ma'am." John beamed, nodding his head and offering her the bottle of wine. "We've brought this for you." _

_"Oh! Look at that. He's a gentleman, too!" Mummy Holmes chuckled, accepting the bottle. "You two can put your coats in the coatroom- Sherlock will show you where it is. We're all in the den." And with that, she was gone, gliding down the hall with a smile on her face. _

"Wow. Your mum is…" John started, staring after the woman.

"Over the top?" Sherlock offered, taking John's coat and leading him down another short hallway to a small room filled with coats.

"No…she's fantastic!" John said incredulously. Sherlock chuckled as well as he hung their coats. They stole a quick snog in the coatroom before joining the rest of the party in the den, John tugging the bag of gifts along.

"Sherlock! John!" Greg called as the two entered the room. He nodded to Sherlock and clapped John on the shoulder. "Merry Christmas!"

"You, too!" John replied, smiling. He glanced over at Sherlock who had suddenly gone tense. His eyes were narrowed as he scanned the room and if John didn't know any better, he'd say he sensed a touch of nervousness in the detective. They chatted with Greg for a few minutes before he was called away by a short, elderly lady, claiming to have been sent by her husband.

"Sherlock, come here." The voice cut through the din and reached the men, still standing on the outskirts. It belonged to Mummy Holmes, sitting on a couch with a group of older women and Mycroft near a large Christmas tree. Sherlock obeyed quickly, surprising John. He followed his dark haired boyfriend, still toting the bag. When they reached the couch, they were greeted with wide smiles. "Oh, John, dear, put that bag near the tree, we'll get to it later." She said, gesturing for them to sit. "We were just talking about you Sherlock."

"Yes!" Piped a grey-haired woman in a green pantsuit. "How did you two meet, exactly?"  
Sherlock cleared his throat and gave John a fleeting smile as the man joined him on the couch across from his mother. "John and I were introduced through a colleague." He told her. John smirked and watched Sherlock, who was obviously uncomfortable. It was new and interesting and just the tiniest bit hilarious.

"Helen, that's not what we were talking about." Mummy Holmes interrupted. "We were talking about how handsome you look!" She smiled at Sherlock before directing her attention to John. "He takes after his father, you know. Always had sort of a boyish charm. Actually, speaking of-"

"Mother." This time it was Sherlock's turn to interrupt. "Don't."

Mummy Holmes simply rolled her eyes and ignored him. "Sherlock was always such a trouble maker, even as a little boy. I imagine he still is." She chuckled quietly. "I remember one time when he was only about five, the size of-"

"_Mother."_

"Oh, hush, Sherlock." Mummy Holmes scolded him lightly. John let out a small laugh and Sherlock scowled, glancing between John and the floor. "He begged and begged for a pirate costume so he could be like the real ones that sail the seas. Finally, we gave in and bought it for him- hat, sword, outfit, everything. We couldn't get him to take it off for almost a _month!" _Mummy Holmes laughed. "We had to sneak it off him while he was sleeping at night. Not hard to do, as he tired himself out every afternoon, chasing bad guys all around the backyard." Everyone laughed softly and John looked over at Sherlock to gauge his reaction. His boyfriend, Sherlock Holmes, the Consulting Detective, was a deep shade of red, eyes fixed on the carpet at his feet. "Oh, Sherlock! Don't be embarrassed! At least I didn't tell John about the time you and Victor set off into the woods with the-"

"Mum!" Sherlock gasped, causing everyone to laugh again.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop!" Mummy Holmes grinned, reaching over and setting a hand on his knee. "I'm your mother- it's my job to embarrass you!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed giving her a small smile that John recognized as the real thing.

"Now, if you want to hear a real story," Sherlock started, looking at John. "You should ask my mother about the Christmas when Mycroft was twelve and he-"

"Sherlock!" Mycroft said quickly, his face beginning to tint pink.

"Ah, now that's a story!" Mummy Holmes started, raising her eyebrows excitedly. John leaned back and rested his hand on Sherlock's knee, catching his eye. They gave each other a brief smile before redirecting their attention back to Mummy Holmes who was apparently retelling the story she had told to Greg the first time he had visited.


End file.
